Blood. That was all that Charlie could see. Lots and lots of blood surrounded her. She looked down and could see that her hands were stained red from the blood. As she looked around her she could see everyone running around in a panic, frantically trying to patch up the holes and gashes in the ship's exterior and vital mechanical works. She was frozen. She couldn't move. The sense of calm under pressure that she thought she had possessed seemed to have been drained from her completely. Surely she could find the courage to move.
Then she must have because she was suddenly on the way to the Sickbay. The consuming thought to get to Sickbay and see who was being treated for life-threatening injuries overwhelmed her. That was all that she could do. She was running through the ship, pushing people out of the way. She did find that most of the cadets, ensigns, and yeomen would get out of her way as she ran through the ship's corridors.
She made it to Sickbay and found the numerous doctors and nurses running around. After she slowed, she suddenly felt as if she went into slow motion. She walked through the medical ward, ignoring the cries and the orders from various doctors and nurses. She walked until she made it to the last bed in the ward. Dr. McCoy was busy working on a blood-stained body of a young man. Charlie walked around to see the face of the man with tears welling up in her eyes. She put her hands to her mouth upon seeing the bruised and battered face of the young Russian. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks and onto her hands that still covered her mouth.
"Lieutenant!" she heard from nearby. She looked to see McCoy looking at her, momentarily pausing in his work on Chekov. "Don't just stand there! Help or get out of the way!" McCoy looked at her a little differently and then scanned the ward quickly.
"You!" he yelled toward an unsuspecting medical cadet. The cadet came over quickly. "Fix her arm and get her out of here!" The cadet stepped up to Charlie and went to take her away. Charlie struggled and for the first time felt the pain in her left arm.
"No!" she protested. "I want to be here! What happened? Is he going to be alright?" McCoy looked up at her again.
"Lieutenant," he said. "If you do not leave now, I will find something to subdue you with and then I'll have the cadet drag your body to your quarters and lock you in there! Get out of here!"
Charlie gave the doctor a hard look before turning to leave the end of the ward with the cadet. Upon hearing the flat line of the heart monitor attached to Chekov, she immediately turned around to watch as McCoy continued to try and revive the Russian.
"No!" Charlie yelled as she sat up in her bed. She looked around and saw that she was not in Sickbay. She was in her quarters. The lights were out and she was dressed in her pajamas. She held her hands out in front of her and saw that there was no blood to be found. She heard a knock on her door.
"Come in," she said automatically as the door opened and the lights came on dimly. She saw Chekov walk into the room and over to her and sit next to her on the bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "I heard you yelling." Charlie didn't say anything. She just looked at him. After a moment she pulled him into a tight hug. He returned the hug after a moment and patted her back softly. "Charlie? What's wrong?"
Charlie sat back and looked at him.
"Just a bad dream," she said. "A nightmare. That's all." Chekov pulled her back to him and held onto her tightly.
"What happened?" he asked. Charlie shook her head as she buried it in Chekov's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. However, Chekov pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Sometimes talking about it will help."
Charlie's brow furrowed a little, confused as to why he might have some inside knowledge about nightmares. Another conversation for another day.
"Okay," she said quietly. Chekov shifted so he was lying on top of the covers of the bed. He brought Charlie to lie next to him on her side, her head resting on his chest.
"My mother used to do this when I had nightmares," Chekov said. "What happened?" Charlie took a deep breath and found the comfort of Chekov's arm around her soothing enough to allow her memories of the dream to come rushing forth. After she was done talking, she looked up at Chekov to see his reaction. She was surprised to see him smiling slightly.
"That's silly," he said. Charlie sat up a bit then mock-glared at him.
"Don't tell me that Russians can't die," she told him. Chekov chuckled deeply.
"Well, if it's true," he said. Charlie smacked him on the chest lightly eliciting a "Hey." She put her head back on his chest, closer to his neck so he could rest his chin on the top of her head.
When Chekov woke in the morning he found that he was lying on his side facing Charlie's back and he had an arm thrown over her. She seemed to be very sound asleep when he propped himself up on his elbow. He could see that her hair was slightly in her face and her mouth was slightly open. He looked past her and saw the clock on her nightstand read seven in the morning. He would have to be up in an hour anyway. He sighed silently and moved to get off of the bed, grateful that he was on top of the covers and would not disturb Charlie.
Chekov opened the door to Charlie's room and stepped out into the hallway and turned to go to his room next door. He looked up from the floor as he was absently scratching his stomach. When he looked up he felt his blood go cold. He was looking straight into the face of the captain standing about five feet away from him. Kirk had a steaming mug in one hand and a data pad in the other.
"Captain," Chekov stammered after hearing the door to Charlie's room close.
"She is your superior officer, Ensign," Kirk said very slowly and deliberately. Chekov noticed that Kirk strained to get out the words and was very careful about his pronunciation and diction.
"I know that, sir," Chekov said. "Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened?" Kirk asked accusingly. "You just left her room still in your pajamas and I sincerely doubt she is awake at this hour as you were very careful about being quiet while leaving."
"Nothing happened, Captain," Chekov said with his eyes wide in fear. "I promise you that. Nothing happened."
"Why were you in there then?" Kirk asked. Chekov shifted on his feet.
"She had a nightmare last night, Captain," Chekov explained. "I heard her yell and went in to make sure she was okay. She asked me to stay in case she had the nightmare again."
"A nightmare?" Kirk asked. "Did she say what it was about?"
"She did, sir," Chekov answered. "And I promised to keep it to myself." Kirk nodded as the young Russian had guessed his next question.
"Go get ready for the day," Kirk said. "I'll see you on the bridge in two hours." Chekov nodded and rushed into his room as Kirk continued down to the end of the hall to his quarters.
***
Charlie raised her eyebrows when Uhura plopped her lunch tray down in front of the young engineer. She paused in her eating when Uhura threw herself into the chair directly across from Charlie. Charlie had been enjoying a relatively quiet if lonely lunch by herself in the officers' mess hall.
"Hi," Charlie said cautiously to Uhura. "Anything wrong?" Uhura glared up at Charlie briefly before stabbing at her food. She threw her fork down, causing Charlie to jump slightly.
"What is Kirk's problem?" Uhura asked. Charlie looked around the mess hall and was glad that it was empty except for the two female officers.
"I don't know," Charlie said. "What's going on? Scotty and I haven't had much to do with him today."
"He's been moody and snappy all morning," Uhura said. "And he's been excessively rude to Chekov, and Chekov's not doing anything about it!" Charlie's brow furrowed.
"Where is everyone?" Charlie asked. Uhura sighed and picked up her fork again.
"Kirk sent me down to get some food early because I told him to leave Chekov be," Uhura explained. "What are you doing here now?"
"Scotty told me to grab some food early so I can keep working on the warp speed when he's getting lunch," Charlie explained. "How's Spock junior?"
"Good," Uhura said with a touch of a smile on her face. "It's too bad we don't know the sex of the baby yet."
"I bet it's a boy," Charlie said. "It's going to be a beautiful baby either way. Have you thought of any names yet?"
"Not really," Uhura said. "I'm barely three months along."
"You're going to really start showing soon," Charlie mentioned. "Are you going to tell Kirk soon? What's protocol for that?"
"I'll tell him after I see McCoy again next week," Uhura said. "I have no idea what protocol is and I doubt Kirk even cares what protocol is. He'll do whatever he wants."
"I can't wait for the little kid to get here," Charlie said. "It's going to bring about some more entertainment on the ship."
"You're going to be my go-to babysitter right?" Uhura asked. Charlie grinned.
"Of course," Charlie replied. "I'm going to make sure that you actually get some sleep. I don't need sleep."
"I appreciate it," Uhura said.
"No problem," Charlie said. "I was the youngest and therefore never got to do any babysitting. I was usually the one being babysat."
"Thanks again, Charlie."
"You know," Charlie started. "I think I may have a theory about Kirk's behavior today. You are being alarmingly mellow in terms of pregnancy mood swings. Perhaps we need McCoy to check Kirk's hormone levels? Could we be expecting a Kirk junior in the future as well?"
Uhura laughed. "Please tell him that today. If you get him down to see McCoy about his hormone levels, I will make sure that your birthday party only includes a small amount of command staff officers. I happen to know that Chekov has about ten bottles of that vodka his mom sent him."
"Done."
***
Charlie stared at the chessboard and sighed. She glanced all around the board the two remaining white pieces, a king and a pawn. She glanced up at her challenger: a young Russian with a smug smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes and looked back at the board.
"You're a horrible human being," she said as she flicked her king to send it toppling to the board. "You win."
"Excellent," Chekov said. He started picking up the black pieces and putting them in the starting positions at his side of the board. "One more?"
"Sure," Charlie said after she ticked a mark on a tally sheet under the column labeled "Pavel." She put the pencil down on the notepad and started picking up her white pieces and arranging them correctly on the board. "It's not like we've got much else to do."
"Nope," Chekov agreed. Charlie looked up at him as she recklessly moved a random pawn forward two spaces.
"Why was Kirk rude to you yesterday?" Charlie asked as Chekov contemplated the chess pieces.
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully not looking at her.
"Uhura said that he was being really mean to you yesterday and that he was really moody," Charlie explained.
"I'm sure it was nothing," Chekov said.
"Still," Charlie said. "Even if it was nothing, he has no right to be rude to you. I don't care if he is the captain."
"How is work down with the engines?" Chekov asked, sounding very eager to change topic.
"Good," Charlie said. "Scotty thinks we might reach warp speed four point three by the end of the month."
"Impressive," Chekov said, looking up from where he was moving his rook. Charlie looked up when she heard footsteps entering the mess hall. She saw Sulu give a wave before he went off to find some food.
"What's Sulu doing up?" Charlie asked Chekov as she scanned the board. "Isn't he usually in bed by now?"
"I don't know," Chekov responded. "It's almost midnight, so it's not too late." Charlie shrugged and moved her bishop.
"Hey guys," Sulu said as he sat down next to Charlie with a bowl of cereal.
"Hey Sulu," Charlie said.
"Who's winning?" Sulu asked before picking up the notepad with the tally marks on it and catching a smug grin sent his way by Chekov. "Never mind then."
"The Russians will always win," Chekov said proudly. Charlie laughed. Sulu raised an eyebrow at Chekov.
"I believe history has proven otherwise and there are several competitions that you and I could have where I would win," Charlie said.
"Quite possibly," Chekov said. "But I would still beat you in chess every time." Sulu consulted the tally sheet again.
"She's won twice," he said. Charlie smiled. Chekov scoffed and dismissed the fact with a wave of his hand.
"One was because Mr. Spock helped her," he replied.
"And the other?" Sulu asked.
"The other was that night that we got really drunk in the mess hall back at the Academy," Chekov explained. "That doesn't count. I was probably telling her how to beat me as we were playing."
"You were," Charlie admitted as she held her knight poised above the board.
"See," Chekov pointed out to Sulu. "Cheater. She's cheated to get those two wins. You can never beat me unaided."
Charlie just smiled and shook her head at the Russian.
"We used to play strip chess at the Academy," Sulu said. Charlie and Chekov looked at him. "Like strip poker only you would play it with a really good friend." Sulu stood up and clapped Charlie on the shoulder as he grabbed his bowl and left the mess hall. Chekov looked to Charlie with an eyebrow raised.
"No," she said immediately. Chekov tilted his head and his eyes got a bit wider. "Don't look at me like that. Those puppy dog eyes are not going to work on me this time. We can have a chess drinking game, but no strip chess for you."
"Fine, fine," Chekov said. "Do you want me to go get the vodka?" Charlie laughed.
"Maybe next game," Charlie said. Chekov stood up at that moment and Charlie looked at him in confusion. "Where are you going?"
"To get the vodka," Chekov said while gesturing to the door. "This game is only going to last about five minutes." Charlie laughed and grabbed Chekov's sleeve, pulling him back to the table. However, he only turned and smiled before gently prying her hand off of her sleeve. He winked at her on his way out of the mess hall. Charlie stared at the chessboard contemplating her next move.
When she looked up next she saw Chekov coming back into the mess hall with four bottles of vodka in his hands and he was not alone. Behind him were the remaining members of the command staff along with Scotty. McCoy was carrying a birthday cake. Chekov put the bottles of vodka on the table near the chessboard then moved the board to a different table. McCoy put the cake on the table and everyone sat down around Charlie. Kirk started to count to the crew but Charlie held up a hand.
"If you sing, I will kill you," she threatened. The crew laughed. Charlie chuckled as Sulu, Chekov, and Kirk started taking shot glasses out of their pockets.
"We've got seven glasses because Uhura is being difficult and doesn't want to drink because she's sick," Kirk explained. Spock got up from the table.
"I'll go grab some plates and silverware," he said. Chekov began pouring the shots of vodka as Spock came back with a stack of plates, a pile of forks and a large knife. He put the stack on the table as he sat back down next to Uhura. Scotty immediately grabbed the knife and pulled the cake toward him.
"I'm cutting the cake!" he announced. "I'll just cut it into eight pieces." Everyone laughed but didn't argue. They took up their shot glasses and Chekov cleared his throat.
"We are here to celebrate the birthday of one of our elite crew members," he toasted. "We will be having a traditional Russian birthday party, except for the cake when we usually have pie. Someone," and at this point, Chekov looked pointedly at Scotty, "doesn't like pie and loves chocolate cake. Therefore we have cake. At a Russian birthday, we must have a toast for every shot and the first three are a toast to the birthday person, which I am doing now, a toast to the hostess – that would be Lieutenant Uhura, and the third is a toast to a woman's love or love in general. After that anything goes. So now, Charlie, you are twenty three years old today. You have been with Starfleet for about a month but it feels like longer. I know we've all enjoyed your company here on this ship. Here's to a long and prosperous life! Happy birthday, Charlie!"
"Happy birthday, Charlie!" the crew repeated. Everyone raised their glasses to touch them and then took the shots.
"Now whoever makes the next toast has to pour the shots," Chekov said. "The toaster pours the shots. And you must not put the glass back on the table until it is empty."
"You Russians are strict about your drinking rules," Kirk said to Chekov with a grin. Chekov smiled back.
"We also have to finish any bottle that we open," Chekov added. Kirk grinned broadly.
"You have four bottles there?" Kirk asked. Chekov nodded. "Let's do it." Charlie and Uhura shared a look as Kirk began to pour more shots.
"We can eat cake and drink, right?" Scotty asked. Chekov nodded and Scotty greedily and happily pulled a plate to him with a large piece of cake on it. Spock did the rest of the honors of splitting up the rest of the cake – all in the eight pieces Scotty had cut. Kirk put the bottle of vodka back down on the table and stood.
"To our lovely Lieutenant Uhura, who came to me the other day to discuss taking over planning Charlie's surprise birthday party and insisted that it be a very casual affair with only a select few welcome. I concurred as that was what I had been planning all along and let her plan the rest," Kirk said. There were some chuckles around the table at the toast. "Uhura, if you ever leave Starfleet we know that you will have another calling in casual birthday party planning. Here's to a good and long career with Starfleet!" Everyone laughed at that before taking their shots. All except Uhura, of course.
Spock picked up the vodka bottle to the surprise of most around the table. He began to pour out the shots as everyone watched him. He lifted his glass and stood.
"I thought it would be most logical if I delivered the toast on love," Spock began. "As a Vulcan I am used to suppressing emotions, but as a human I know that love is the one emotion that shouldn't be suppressed. As the purest of all emotions, love is something that we cannot live without. Of course, there are different types of love: the love of friends, the love of a lover, and the love of family. We have all experienced or will experience each of these three types of love. We are able to do so and are lucky to do so because we are human. We are in the presence of the love of family and of friends because of every single person sitting around this table. Not only are we friends as represented by this party but we are a family as well. We are a rudimentary family but a family nonetheless that loves each other. I sincerely hope and believe that each one of us will find and cherish all three types of love."
The crew looked at Spock in a silent moment. Uhura had tears in her eyes and Charlie was smiling softly.
"That was absolutely beautiful, mate," Scotty said, wiping at his eyes. There were nods of agreement around the table. Then the shot glasses were drained and placed back on the table.
***
Kirk reveled in the panting that he heard coming from the body that he was currently kissing his way down. His hands rested on the hips that he unconsciously knew could bear with childbirth. He had learned about that instinct that a man unconsciously sought out a woman with a certain hip to waist ratio. Charlie had the right hip to waist ratio. Once he reached a belly button, Kirk stopped and rested his chin on the pale stomach the belly button belonged to. He looked up and saw a pair of impossibly deep blue eyes shining down at him in the darkness of his captain's quarters. He smirked and kissed his way back up her stomach, past a red lacy bra, and paid extra attention to her sternum before landing at her neck.
"If you leave a mark on me, I will kill you," he heard and felt his young companion say. He moved up on the bed and looked into the face of his young assistant engineer. He nudged her nose with his before placing a deep kiss on her lips. She put her hands on the back of his neck in an effort to pull him closer, then speared her fingers through his hair, lightly massaging and scratching his scalp. Kirk didn't quite care when he let out a groan that he was powerless to stop.
He felt a leg hitch over his hips and pull him closer to the bed and to Charlie. She pulled back from the kiss but began a slow, agonizing trail of hot open-mouthed kisses along Kirk's jaw toward his ear. He shuddered when she ran the very tip of her tongue lightly along the curve of his ear. He groaned when she took the lobe of his ear in her mouth and sucked on it before taking it between her teeth and biting it lightly.
"You're going to be the death of me, Charlie," Kirk said as he breathed heavily. Charlie just smirked up at him.
Kirk moved off of her and smirked himself when he saw the look of loss coming from his bedmate. He flipped the covers off of her and enjoyed the view of her pale body clad only in red lacy underwear and a red lacy bra on top of his dark sheets. The color of his sheets only showcased how pale her skin was. He couldn't believe how sensory this experience was. He chalked it up to how much he wanted to pay attention to this moment. He wasn't going to forget one detail for the life of him.
Kirk lightly kissed his way up Charlie's left leg, enjoying her squirming body as he slowly made his way closer to the top of the inside of her thigh. He heard her let out a very deep breath when he moved back down to pay the same attention to her right leg. He lightly skimmed his hands up her legs and rested them at her hips as he stared at the red lacy barrier in front of him. He glanced up at her only to see her looking down at him with heavily hooded eyes. She barely inclined her head in a nod when he slipped his fingers underneath the sides of her panties and began to slide them down her legs. He dropped them on the floor and stared into her eyes as he moved back up onto the bed, taking her legs gently with him and allowing them to accommodate him between them. He brought himself back up the bed to look at her face. He brushed back a bit of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He kissed her forehead with a hand on her neck. He kissed her nose. And then he kissed her sweetly before slipping back down her body, his mouth leaving a trail in his wake.
When Charlie felt Kirk kiss her, she arched her back into the touch. Her hands clenched at the sheets on his bed and she took in a gasp of air. She soon discovered that his tongue, while good for talking and bragging about his heroics as captain at the Enterprise, was also good for something else… very good for something else.
"Oh, God," she panted. "Oh, Jim." She felt him smirk but gasped before she could reprimand him for having the gall to do that when he should have been occupied with other things. He was back to keeping himself occupied with those certain things before she could get the words out of her mouth. Although, she didn't think she would be able to make any coherent sentences for a while.
A few minutes later, Charlie groaned into a deep kiss with Kirk as she felt him slowly enter her. Both pulled back from the kiss to put their foreheads together and fully enjoy his entrance into her. They kissed deeply again as Kirk began to slowly rock his hips against hers. She began to move her hips in time with his and they both found they had to break from the deep kissing in order to catch their breath. Kirk allowed his hand to trail down her body until it reached a spot on Charlie's body that made her arch wonderfully into him and clench her muscles deliciously around him. He groaned and wondered exactly who his hand was helping more. Their bodies moved faster together and they were just about to reach a climax.
That was when Kirk sat up in bed. Alone. Desperately alone. He looked around him and saw the empty space in the bed next to him. His chest was bare but his pajama pants remained on his body. There was no sign of the assistant engineer nor was there a sign that she had been there. He desperately looked at the floor at the end of the bed, hoping to see a pair of red lace panties. Sadly, he was disappointed. He sat back on his bed and ran a hand through his hair, going over in his mind the events of the dream that had appeared so vividly to him. He was slightly surprised at the guest in his dream. He hadn't expected for Charlie to pop up in one of those kinds of dreams that he found himself having. He thought he was beginning to see her as more of a younger sister than something very un-sister like.
"God dammit," he muttered as he ran a hand through his hair again. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was near half six in the morning. He groaned and headed toward the bathroom, preparing for a very long and very cold shower.
After Kirk finished his shower, he visited the mess hall to grab a large mug of coffee and his data pad. He was on his way back to his room when he turned the corner of the corridor and saw Chekov coming out of Charlie's room. Chekov was being very quiet about it and was still in his pajamas. Kirk stopped and waited for the young Russian ensign to notice him. Chekov lifted his gaze and jumped slightly.
"Captain," he managed to stammer out as he shifted on his feet. Kirk could feel his blood boiling as he stared at the young man in front of him.
"She is your superior officer, Ensign," Kirk barely got out through clenched teeth.
"I know that, sir," Chekov answered. "Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened?" Kirk asked. He couldn't believe the audacity that his young ensign navigator had. Kirk knew very well what could have happened between them as flashes of his dream came back to him.
"Nothing happened, Captain," Chekov repeated. "I promise you that. Nothing happened."
"Why were you in there then?" Kirk asked as he saw Chekov shift on his feet again.
"She had a nightmare last night, Captain," Chekov explained. "I heard her yell and went in to make sure she was okay. She asked me to stay in case she had the nightmare again."
"A nightmare?" Kirk asked, suddenly filled with worry about what could be plaguing the assistant engineer's mind. "Did she say what it was about?"
"She did, sir," Chekov told him. Kirk opened his mouth to ask another question but Chekov beat him to it. "And I promised to keep it to myself." Kirk nodded.
"Go get ready for the day," he told Chekov. "I'll see you on the bridge in two hours." Kirk delighted slightly in watching Chekov rush into his room before he continued on his way to his room.
Kirk was surprised to find that day being repeated in his mind later that week as he heard the alarms going off around him and all around the Enterprise. He again repeated the memories as he ran down to Sickbay, helping Sulu carry Chekov to the chief medical officer. As they entered Sickbay, McCoy took one look at the three officers, two carrying the bleeding and broken body of the third as they entered the ward. McCoy pointed to a bed at the end of the ward that was far away from the injuries that were already coming into the ward.
Kirk helped Sulu carry Chekov down the ward and gently placed the teenage officer on the bed. McCoy was over quickly and took over the job of getting Chekov back to normal after shouting instructions at the other medical officers. Kirk stepped back and watched McCoy work on the young man. Sulu stood on the other side of the bed, neither willing to leave Chekov's side. As McCoy moved past him, Kirk put out a hand to stop him. He grabbed McCoy by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.
"You bring him back," Kirk said firmly. "Bring him back and make sure he stays alive, Bones. Do it for her. For Charlie." McCoy nodded.
"Go help the others," McCoy said to him. "There's nothing for you to do here. Go be the captain, Jim!"
Kirk and Sulu left the medical ward and ran back up to the bridge.
Down by the engine room, Charlie picked herself up off the floor and grabbed at her arm as a sharp sting of pain went through it. She stood on a stairway landing and looked up at the stairs she had come tumbling down during the impact before the alarms started sounding. She looked all around her at the people running around and screaming orders at each other. She felt deaf as there was so much noise that she couldn't hear anything. She looked down at her hands and saw they were covered in blood. She couldn't find the will to move. She reasoned she must have hit her head when she fell as she watched everyone else working to fix the ship. She looked at her hands once more and the sight of the blood again caused her to look up in alarm.
"No," she said quietly. "No." She didn't remember how she got back up those stairs so quickly, but she did recall seeing most of the other crew members getting out of her way as she ran from the engine floor while clutching her mangled left arm. Most just assumed that she was on her way to hurriedly get her arm fixed so she could get back to work, but they were wrong.
She ran instead of taking the elevator. She leapt up the stairs and bounded down damaged corridors. When she got nearer to Sickbay she was relieved to see that that part of the ship had miraculously escaped any damage. She slowed as she approached the opening of the medical ward. She ignored the protests and orders from the nurses and medical officers as she blindly walked toward the back of the medical bay. She had hoped that she would be wrong when she got to the end of the ward. She hoped that she wouldn't have dreamed something that would have come true. She would have given anything to not be seeing the vision that was clouding her vision.
There on the back bed of the medical ward lay the young Russian navigator, bleeding and dying before her eyes. Working over him was the hard-nosed chief medical officer. Charlie just stood there, as she watched McCoy work on Chekov. She didn't bring her hands to her mouth and even though the tears welled in her eyes, she didn't feel any fall. She was beyond crying at this point, she reasoned.
And when McCoy told her to get her arm checked by a doctor, she didn't protest like she assumed that she would. She held out her arm to a doctor that had come over to her. She didn't feel any pain as the doctor set the broken arm. She didn't even flinch as the doctor wrapped up the arm and gave her a shot of pain medication. She was already numb. She didn't scream any words of protest as she saw the heart monitor flat line. And she didn't wake up from a dream either. She just stood and watched as McCoy continued to fight with Chekov's stubborn heart, unsure if the young Russian would be right about whether or not all Russians won at everything and that they never died. She sincerely hoped that all Russians were lucky. And if not all Russians were lucky, she would settle for just her Russian to be lucky.